hate you, maybe (фемслэш)

Her skin was warm and smooth, a deep brown that seemed to catch and hold the light. Long, dark hair cascaded down her back in loose waves, thick and glossy. Gold earrings swayed with her movements, catching Azula's eye as she tilted her head to laugh at something someone had said.
And then there were her eyes.
They were an impossible shade of blue, bright and clear even in the dim bar. Azula found herself held captive by them, something unreadable flickering beneath the surface. There was a sharpness there, a quiet challenge. A woman who didn’t just exist in a space—she commanded it.
Azula hated how easily her gaze lingered.